


ask no questions, hear no lies

by virgilsjourney (jenna221b)



Series: Sanders Sides Ficlets [16]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cliffhangers, Confrontations, Crying, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Roman, Protective Virgil, Virgil's Room, deceit is a villain, vulnerable Roman, vulnerable Virgil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/virgilsjourney
Summary: There is a secret door in Virgil’s room.And, that’s fine. What they don’t know can’t hurt them.Until, it isn’t fine.-------------------Takes place mainly after ‘and where have I been?’ & ‘I know things now’





	ask no questions, hear no lies

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: swearing (in anger); emotional manipulation/abuse; Deceit as a villain; forced to say things against one’s will (think Ella in Ella Enchanted); negative thoughts

There is a secret door in Virgil’s room. 

And, that’s fine. What they don’t know can’t hurt them.

Until, it isn’t fine.

* * *

 

There was a time when he would always be there. Virgil would open the door, and see the corridor, a black door with a yellow wooden frame slightly ajar. It was somehow both inviting and repulsive. 

It was easy to listen to his lies,  then. There was no counterargument, no love he could find to fight back against it. Gradually, though, he visited less and less. He remembers pretending to just wander down the corridor, and hesitating at the door. 

And then, like a distant miracle, he had heard movement. Someone was in his room... no, more than one.

He acted out of instinct, and fled back home.

“What are you guys doing in my  _room?_ ”

He thought of visiting one last time after that- as a goodbye. But, a cold unease always stopped him.

* * *

 

Now, no amount of fear in the world can hold Virgil back. He pushes against the wall until the door forms, storming down the corridor and kicking Deceit’s door open. 

Deceit stands there as if he can already foresee everything, staring down at his gloved fingers with disinterest. There is still some snow dusting his cape and he brushes it off with a careless swipe.

“My, my, Virgil, where are your manners?”

“Fuck. You,” Virgil seethes. His chest is heaving, his fists shaking with rage. “You don’t get to  _do_  that. Not to him. Not to  _any_  of them.”

Deceit tuts. “Really, it’s hardly my fault that he’s so gullible.” His eyes flash with malice and glee. “You should have heard him, Virgil- you missed the best part of the show. That pathetic little lost thing cried his heart out for you.”

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT  _UP_.” Breathing hard, Virgil takes two long strides and grips Deceit by his  _stupid_ cape, pushing him against the wall.

Deceit blinks, and a part of Virgil believes that, for once, he is genuinely rattled by Virgil’s reaction.  _Good_. But, the moment is soon gone as Deceit just smirks.

“Or what?”

Virgil growls, grip on Deceit’s cloak tightening. “Just- just leave them _be_. Your problem’s with me, fine. Keep it that way. And keep them out of it.”

“Interesting. Why would you care?”

“Because...” Virgil lets go of Deceit abruptly, swallowing back words about responsibility and compassion and  _love_ , because he doesn’t want to waste them on him. “Because it’s my job.”

He turns and walks out with one jerky movement. 

“You still believe that. Touching. Almost  _cute_ ,” Deceit calls, taunting.

Virgil does not look back. 

“But, tell me this, Virgil. How can you protect them from  _yourself?_ ”

Virgil slams the door shut, hardly aware of the noise he’s making thanks to the blood pounding in his ears. He yells incoherently, just a scream of rage, and shoves the bookcase in front of the wall, concealing everything from view. Some books fall to the floor, and only then does he hear a whimper, and ice floods the pit of his stomach. 

He runs to his bed in time to see Roman turning in his sleep, the purple blanket Virgil had thrown over him almost falling off. 

“V...Virgil...wh...” Roman mumbles. His eyelashes are damp.

Virgil feels a pang in his chest as he pulls the blanket properly over Roman, tucking him in. “Shh,” he whispers, glancing back to the bookcase and glaring at it, as if he can keep Deceit back by dark looks alone.

Roman gasps, choked and desperate. “Wh-where...?” he pleads, voice already trailing off before he’s finished the word.

_Pathetic little lost thing. Cried his heart out for you._

“I’m here,” Virgil says. He hesitates, then gently places his palm over Roman’s forehead. “I’m right here.” 

Roman relaxes at the touch, face going slack. Virgil thinks he’s fully asleep again until Roman half yawns, half sighs: “Virgil...safe...”

“Shh,” Virgil repeats, simply because it’s the only thing he feels capable of saying.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots one of the books that had fallen. Hans Christian Andersen’s  _New Fairytales_. Roman’s copy, originally, but Virgil had never got around to returning it. He decides there are worse things he could be reading.

* * *

 

Of course, it starts when he thinks the danger has long since passed. It’s easy to forget, when now he leaves his room open to them all, and never feels the need to open that secret door. It stays locked, hidden innocuously by the bookcase, and the door is covered over with purple wallpaper, anyway. Out of sight, out of mind. 

But then, Patton is just finishing telling him a truly spectacularly awful yet brilliant pun, and Virgil is doubled over with laughter, when, without warning, the room is plunged into icy temperatures. 

Patton shivers. There is suddenly dark eye-shadow under his eyes, large and intense. “Virge? What’s going on?”

Virgil opens his mouth to voice his confusion, but then snaps it shut as a terrible thought occurs to him, alien to him:  _Go on, say he’s feeling too much. His emotions always got in the way._

Horrified, Virgil hurriedly covers his mouth with his hands, trying to keep the words within his own head. But, they’re not  _his_ words-

The room darkens, lights flickering on and off ghoulishly. Virgil hopes he’s imagining it, but for one moment, it looks as if most of his purple decor fades into pure black, streaked with yellow.

_Go on, say it. Break his heart, I dare you._

“Patton, go away!” Virgil screams, desperately pushing him out. Patton lands on the floor, stricken. His eyeshadow fades as he is pushed out of Virgil’s room, but that doesn’t stop Virgil from seeing the overwhelming panic still in his eyes.

_You’re hurting him. This is just what you do, you’ll always hurt them._

He closes the door, muffling Patton calling out his name. He sprints over, pushing the bookcase away with such force he wonders how he doesn’t break it. He opens the door, screaming down into the pitch black corridor, voice raw.

“What the _hell_ was that?!”

There is the faint sound of awful, mocking laughter. Virgil’s skin crawls.

_Some people laugh through their teeth, goodness sake._

“You were right, Virgil,” Deceit calls back, voice echoing all around. “It makes things  _much_ easier, focusing on you. Enjoy the redecoration.”

Virgil can’t think of a proper reply, his chest too tight with anger and worry. He kicks the door shut instead, and shoves the bookcase back against it. Fine, he’s alone, he can deal with that-

He turns around, and Logan is there, staring at him. Virgil sags against the bookcase.

Logan’s jaw is slack, eyes wide. “You- you just-“

_Play dumb_  Virgil thinks wildly, even as his heart thumps thumps thumps.  _What they don’t know can’t hurt them, what they don’t know-_

“Just what?” he says, trying for innocently confused.

But Logan scowls, not buying it for one moment.

“Don’t bullshit me, Virgil,” he says coolly, with clipped precision. “How am I possibly meant to help, if you don’t tell me the  _truth?_ ”

Virgil makes to speak, but Logan cuts over him:

“You do realise your actions left Patton in tears? Just so we’re clear about the severity of the situation.”

Virgil’s face pales with guilt. He opens his mouth, scrambling to say anything that could fix this-

_Tell him he’s the least popular._

Virgil jolts, sending books flying. Logan blinks rapidly, bewildered.

“Virgil, this behaviour is most out of charact-”

“Oh, stop being such a fucking know-it-all, and get out!”

Logan steps back. One hand reaches up to adjust his glasses, and Virgil can’t miss that it’s shaking. “Very well,” Logan says flatly.

Finally, Virgil is alone.

* * *

 

He starts thinking that the way to solve everything is to just never leave his room. Even in this state, he knows that is horribly flawed reasoning, but there is no Logan to talk him out of the spiral. There is no  _anyone_ , he reminds himself. There can never be. If he stays here, then they can’t be harmed. Fine, he’s a rat caught in his own trap, but at least they’re free...

A knock on his door. Virgil cringes at the sound.

“I-it’s me,” Roman says, quietly, and so very unsure. There’s a reserved tone in his voice that is becoming all too common. But, he’s getting better, Virgil knows it. He knows Roman still has nightmares after everything- who wouldn’t- but he also knows he’s beginning to smile a little more, laugh sometimes... even sing again.

And he’ll continue getting better. So long as Virgil stays  _away_.

“Roman, just-” Virgil’s breathing catches in his throat as the room shakes in warning. Above him, his Nightmare Before Christmas posters fall, glass and frame shattering.

Virgil hears a shout of alarm outside. “What was that?” Roman says urgently, voice louder.

Virgil breathes out. He can feel tendrils of awful thinking trying to slip into his words, but he grits his teeth against them. “Just- go away, Roman! P-please.”

There’s a pause. “I’m... I’m sorry, Virgil. I can’t.”

Virgil laughs shakily. “Why not? It’s easy, just-”

“No, I mean...” There’s the faint sound of something brushing against the door, and Virgil closes his eyes. He can imagine what Roman must look like, hand pressed against the door, leaning in. “I can’t leave you. Not when- not when you’re like this. I think...” Roman sighs. “I think you’re hurting. Something’s wrong and I... it’d be unforgivable for me to leave right now. Besides, you...” Roman swallows. “You’ve done so much for me.”

Virgil blinks back sudden hot tears. “Th-then, please, do this for me.  _Leave_.”

Roman sighs again. “Can you tell me why?”

“I can’t I-” Virgil hears a hiss, too quiet for Roman to hear through the door. He flinches, his voice growing higher pitched with fear. “I don’t want to hurt you, Roman!”

The reply comes immediately, and in any other scenario, it would be the most soothing thing Virgil’s ever heard: “Hey, hey! Stop whatever it is you’re thinking. You could never hurt me, Virgil.”

_Open the door._  The thought booms suddenly, a nasty echo, and Virgil cries out. “No, no!”

“Virgil? Virgil, please, let me in-”

_Open the door and tell him you never want to see him again._

No matter how hard he tries to stay put, Virgil ends up rising on trembling legs. His hand reaches for the door handle, and he fights it every step of the way. “N-no, no, no-”

He opens the door and Roman jumps, face a mixture of great concern and relief. A hesitant smile starts to grow. “Oh,  _there_  you are, I knew you’d-”

“I-” Virgil tries everything, biting his tongue, clamping his mouth shut, but the words come spilling out, even as his voice breaks. “I never want to see you again.”

Roman’s smile fades. “What in the world...? Virgil, but... but we... I thought...” Virgil feels sick at the sight of  _doubt_  suddenly overflowing in Roman’s eyes. “Is this... have I done something wrong, Virgil? Because, I assure you, I would never do that intentionally-”

“Is that so?” Virgil feels his breathing turn erratic, but the words still keep coming, bitter and poisonous. “I thought you couldn’t  _stand_  me.”

Roman staggers backwards as if struck, his head shaking in disbelief. “No, of course not, why would you-”

“How quickly you forget.” Virgil tries to keep eye contact, silently begging Roman to  _understand_ , but it’s hard to do when his vision is blurred with tears.

Roman is still shaking his head. “I know I said...  _horrible_ things.” His gaze falls to the floor. “I’ll never forgive myself for them. But, Virgil...” He raises his head, eyes burning with determination. “People can change.”

One last thought snarls, itching for the last word. Virgil shakes his head, now, his tears falling. He can’t let this one escape. “N-no, no-”

Roman misunderstands him completely, stepping forward, hands raised as if surrendering. “Yes,  _yes_ , they can change-”

Virgil is crying fully, but the dreaded comeback slips out despite his loud sobs. “A c-coward of a p-prince like you c-can  _never_ change.”

His stomach drops as Roman reels, jaw dropping, eyes filled with hurt. But, as quickly as it happens, Roman steps forward again. “No, this isn’t-”

Virgil tries to shut the door, anything to keep this from getting worse. “Roman, g-go-”

“ _No_ ,” Roman nearly shouts. His hands brace again the door, keeping it open. “I- I understand, now. This isn’t...” Virgil is shocked to find Roman’s hand reaching out to cup his cheek, carefully wiping tears away before they can truly fall. “This isn’t  _you_. You would  _never_ -”

Roman steps into the room and gasps. His eyes linger over the broken posters of Jack and Sally. “Oh. Oh,  _Virgil_...” He takes both of Virgil’s hands, squeezing them in a calming rhythm. “Please, tell me what’s... I want to help you. I’ll do anything.”

And, Virgil already knows the thing that will help. It’s one repeating thought, crystal clear, his and his alone:  _Tell the truth._

He takes a breath, and he glances over to the bookcase. “I-”

His hand is wrenched out of Roman’s grasp, slapping over his mouth so hard it stings. Roman’s eyes widen in comprehension, and he thankfully seems to have already noticed where Virgil was looking, because he’s marching over, pushing the bookcase aside with a grunt of effort. 

Roman’s hands tear at the wallpaper until it truly reveals the door. One hand reaches out. It’s shaking, fingers almost brushing against the handle. And then, he turns around, face pale, and says two words that set Virgil’s mind racing:

“You too?”

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued! <3


End file.
